


The sin of the father

by delusaedisillusa



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Abduction, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Incest, Obsession, Rape/Non-con Elements, Stockholm Syndrome, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-03-17 21:33:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 15,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3544562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delusaedisillusa/pseuds/delusaedisillusa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was dead.<br/>He lived.<br/>It didn’t make any sense.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I will never let you go

**Author's Note:**

> I'm looking AGAIN for a Beta. I've contacted a few (50-60 at ffnet).  
> If you know someone...velatavelenosa at gmail com

She was dead.  
He lived.  
It didn’t make any sense.

He had left her, and refused to answer her calls, refused to see her, refused to visit her, and refused to acknowledged her.  
It hurts him, but he knew it hurts her much more; he always listened to her and was always the one who had to yield.  
He was the one who had to ask; always to ask, always to share, always had to be the jealous one. He had enough, and she would experience how it hurt to be the beggar.  
After hearing about her affair with Lancel, with Lancel of all the people, he decided to “grow a backbone,” like Tyrion said and leave Cersei.  
He left her not because he didn’t love her anymore - God be good, he didn’t know how not to love her, - he had to leave because he was certain he would kill her.  
Every day, he saw her. She was naked, glorious, shameless, and wanton. He could see her copulating in every position known to man.  
He even tried to make excuses for her: Joffrey's death, for the power slipping from her fingers, but then he saw her riding Lancel, her opened mouth, her golden skin, she winks to him, hips undulating, chanting the words that made him her slave: “More… come deep in me… I want your cock to shape my cunt.” She would play with his balls, with her scarlet nails scratching him…She would give him promises, she would give him her body, her nectar would flow from her mouth and her cunt. He did not want to leave her, ever. He wouldn’t never be able to leave her.  
He could still feel her. He could taste her sweat, her arousal. When he touched himself (for there was no other woman for him, she would be his only poison), it was her hand that stroked his cock, he could feel her damp folds on his leg, humping him, and he could almost feel her breath.  
Damned his soul to the seven hells, for maybe he would forget her there. In life, he was trapped in her treacherous bosom.

Two moons, three moon turns… Sometimes he craved her like a junkie; he needed her like a fix. He needed her like air. He wanted to take her in his arms and shake her until she would die. He would take his artificial hand and do things to her, things he couldn’t name, things that happened in his dreams, leaving him delirious and dirty.

Tommen died.  
“My little lion cub, my little blond cherub,” she whispered, with a voice still hoarse from yelling in pain. Tommen was the third, but also the biggest of her babies. He didn’t pay attention to the baby, it would probably look like the others, and he couldn’t take his eyes from her. No artist had ever painted a more beautiful Madonna than Cersei with her child. He could feel her ferocious love for the children like a poisonous cloud invading the birthing room. A love who was his only, and now he did have to share. Again.

Tyrion was begging him to go and see her. He would have been funny, his disheveled little brother, with red eyes and spotted shirt, but he spoke about the death of a barely twenty-one year old boy, who had been kind and good and regardless, a Lannister. A riding accident was the cause of death, he always wanted to ride like his uncle…  
“You don’t need to fuck her, just be her twin. She is broken Jaime, don’t leave her.” He was bawling at him, “she is just repeating yours and Myrcella’s name. She is afraid of me; she says I would kill her. Jaime, please! I can’t contact Myrcella, Cersei doesn’t sleep, doesn’t want to eat…” His brother was crying, strange that he had always been the family man, and still a large part of the family despised him. Tyrion had always loved his sister’s children, and why not? They didn’t take Cersei from him.  
Strangely, he couldn’t remember how Joffrey looked anymore, certainly like Cersei, an awful lot like him. He could only remember the mixed odor of her moon blood, and the nauseating smell of the flowers as he fucked her… her feeble, no… her white thighs. His Cersei: Iron and perfume.

He couldn’t mourn for the monster they created, she couldn’t forgive him.  
He wanted her, she wanted power.  
He was true to her, she fucked their cousin.

He could mourn for Tommen, the boy who wasn’t chubby anymore, but was still kind and sweet.  
He couldn’t forget how he looked; he looked just like himself twenty years ago.  
Maybe they could bond again, be whole once again, maybe he could forgive her.  
Maybe.  
She would be mourning and she would seek his presence.  
She would hug him tight and never let him go. She would cry, and together, they could have spoke about their boy. He would come to her, her knight, and he would take her in his ensconced villa by the sea. No one could find them. No one would scorn. They would be like Adam and Eve, because really, wasn’t Cersei just a piece of him?  
What he found was despair. Tommen was dead, Myrcella’s plane crashed. His family became smaller his world darker. Cersei wasn’t in mourning; a corpse couldn’t mourn, even for herself. She was lost, he was here, and she was lost. He was here.  
Wasn’t he enough?  
Wasn’t he?  
Cersei died.  
He clearly wasn’t enough.

The next day after, she was dead. He didn’t know how to live, or better yet, if he had to live.It was way worse than losing his hand; that was a part he could confine, but Cersei was a cancer growing inside him. He couldn’t rip her from himself, he would die, but to leave her rotting in him, would kill him too, only slowly and more painful. He did manage to replace Cersei’s ashes with some dirt. He would take her with him, after his death, Tyrion would blend their ashes, together again. He couldn’t hear the “she was a good mother, a real lion’s mother,” or “poor Cersei, she used to burn so bright, before her loss” anymore. Poor, miserable, spent…This wasn’t his Cersei. Then again,when was the last time she was his? He was ready to leave, but then, a dead came alive. It wasn’t Cersei.  
Myrcella was distraught. She didn’t take that unlucky plane, after Tommen’s death she wandered without contacting anyone. She was crying, her hair in disarray, her mouth trembling as she tried to speak. “Uncle Jaime,” she cried desperate, hugging him tight. She smelled like her, she looked like her, she felt like her. She was a part of her, and she belonged rightfully to him.  
Jaime decided he would take another part of Cersei with him.


	2. The wings of a butterfly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They all looked at her like she was rising from the dead.  
> They didn’t expect her to be alive, but then again, she didn’t expect to find her mother dead.  
> They were even.

The wings of a butterfly

They all looked at her like she was rising from the dead.  
They didn’t expect her to be alive, but then again, she didn’t expect to find her mother dead.  
They were even.

Myrcella prided herself on being different from her parents - well, not exactly proud; most of the time, she was simply relieved.   
Her father - bless him, she had loved him, but he had been an awful father. Perhaps he was at his most endearing with her.   
Sometimes, when he was drunk he would call her his little princess, and tell her that he wished her mother would be more like her. Later, she would ask herself if he meant quiet and unspoiled,or just like a normal seven year old girl. She had hated him too, because she knew what he did to Mother.   
Not only did he sleep with most of her nannies - this was before uncle Stannis provided a distant cousin of his wife, a dear older woman with a moustache - he would always disappear with some woman on almost every occasion.   
He abused Mother when drunk (he was often drunk), and he would frequently slap her.   
Myrcella hated this side of him, and due to that, she loved her mother more. The best part of having Robert Baratheon as a father was to have uncle Renly.   
Uncle Renly was only 12 years older than Myrcella, and he was the first man Myrcella had wanted to marry. He looked just like father had (before gaining so much weight and growing a beard) - black-haired, with the most beautiful deep blue eyes. He was dashing, charming, funny, and despite being a man, he was always there for Myrcella’s little girl problems.   
She could still hear fathers barking laughter as she begged him to marry uncle Renly. “Why not, little girl? Maybe then my grandchildren would look like Baratheon, and not like some blond cats,” Robert bit out.   
Uncle Jaime had laughed, uncle Tyrion feigned a broken heart, uncle Stannis had grinded his teeths (like always) and Mother had clearly looked upset, but when had mother not looked upset? Mother was a lioness. Mother had believed herself to be a lioness, a creature above all the others, nothing less for Tywin Lannister’s daughter.  
Her mother.  
Her beautiful, pitiful, crazy mother.  
Once she had read a book about butterflies; they would never be able to fly if their wings were touched before finally emerging from its chrysalis. She remembers how she had to swallow a lump in her throat.   
Her mother had been a butterfly who couldn’t fly.   
She had had to live with other insects, but she never had been be a part of their population. They couldn’t understand her, her beauty, her being different, her being broken. She had fought, of course she did, but she had lost herself in the meantime. Her beautiful sad mother, married to man who didn’t love her, and the power of her family always outside her grasp.   
She wasn’t able to obtain the things she fought for, and was not ready to accept anything less than the things she believed were hers by right. Cersei Lannister, her love for her children had been absolute and fierce, strong and wounding, irrational and blind. She had cried and screamed as Myrcella was sent to a college in Dorne after father’s death. Myrcella was forced to live with a family Mother despised, whom also reciprocated that feeling.   
She remembered she had slept in her mother’s bed that last evening, hugging her like the time she had been a little girl. Mother always smelled so very good, she told her so, and she was rewarded with a hug and a bottle of her perfume. A perfume created and produced just for her “Queen of the Savanne.”   
Dorne was her mother's nightmare, but Myrcella decided she would try. She was already sixteen, and it was high time she would make some experiences outside Mother’s fond, but firm grasp.   
In Dorne, she found friends and freedom. Dorne was the place to be. She missed Tommen, her mother, sometimes even Joffrey (really not so often) but they were a rich family. Tommen would often come visiting, even Joffrey came, before his tragic death, they skyped almost everyday, and she spent part of her holidays back at home.  
She found love with Trystane, the youngest son of her hosting family, who had his sister’s look and his brother’s nature. Trystane was a beautiful but kind and gentle boy. Myrcella had knew her granddad wanted to bind the Martell to the Lannister. Both family had shared business, Myrcella should integrate herself in Dorne and acting for the sake of her family. Myrcella had been honored and flattered; Tywin Lannister saw her as worthy to forge an alliance, if she was a piece of his chess play, she wouldn’t be just a pawn.  
She loved Trystane, who wouldn’t love Trystane? She was successful in her studies and she loved her foster family and was loved in return. She had fun, love and success. After all the casualties in her family: father’s, uncle Renly’s, and Joffrey’s death, the falling out with uncle Stannis… after all this, at least a little bit of sunshine was deserved for her hurt soul, and Dorne was full of sunshine.  
Maybe she could be happy, maybe even a Baratheon-Lannister could be happy. But there had been Mother’s slowly dissolving sanity, the quarrels with the Tyrell’s…She should have known, it wouldn’t last. Myrcella thought her relation with Trystane to be secure and solid. She was his first, he was her first, they were lovers since almost four years. The Martells were amused about how serious they were, “like an old married couple,” Arianne had always joked.  
Then came Aegon Targaryen, Trystane’s cousin. The sure, pragmatic, serious Myrcella, a bastion of calm, confidant of Aryanne and Ella Martell, friend and lover of Trystane, disciple of Doran Martell. Myrcella Baratheon, who had with seven years decided to never cheat on her loved one, was in a dilemma. All her being wanted to be with Aegon, and he wanted to be with her, she could tell.   
She felt so guilty, she who had admired her grandad for being faithful to grandma Joanna's memory, wasn’t better than her dissolute father. Before she could have done anything, the news of Tommen death tore her world. She escaped from Trystane and his care; she wanted to be alone in her journey to her little brother. It had hurt so much, she didn’t feel really anything. Tommen couldn’t be dead, he was so young, he was her sweet little brother, and he couldn't be dead. Tommen, the shy, chubby boy that was always afraid of Joffrey.   
Tommen, who cried after seeing large-scale livestock farming, and decided he wouldn’t eat meat anymore. Tommen and his kitten, the blind donkey, the dog with three legs, the bipolar goat, and his white horse. Tommen laughing about some lame jokes, Tommen dancing with great aunt Genna. Tommen madly in love with the seven years older Margaery. Tommen sharing his cream puffs with her, Tommen, Tommen, and Tommen.  
He was everywhere awake and in her dreams. Always alive.  
She missed her plane ride, she had to cry so badly, and she didn’t want to cry in public. She was a lioness, she would not cringe.   
The journey home was her own little Odyssey.  
She decided to take the train, but she was so numb so confused, she couldn’t get anything right. It took her three days to arrive home, in three days she lost the remnant of her close family. She knew it was her fault, her supposed death caused her mother to lose her will to live. No one would love her like her mother did, no one would ever replace Tommen in her heart.  
Myrcella felt so alone and again so guilty, like never in her life, she had killed her mother. After the memorial ceremony she took her uncle Jaime’s offer to spend some time in his new secluded home.

Never would she have imagined, she would wake up with her uncle in her bed.


	3. In the treasure chest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He had hated Cersei, he had been furious, but he bought this house for her.  
> He had wanted to take her in this house, their home, a home where they were able to be together without the need to hide anything for the first time in their life.  
> A home just for the two of them

In the treasure chest

 

He had hated Cersei, he had been furious, but he bought this house for her.  
He had wanted to take her in this house, their home, a home where they were able to be together without the need to hide anything for the first time in their life.  
A home just for the two of them.  
She wasn’t really Cersei, but she would be. He would made her his Cersei.  
He didn’t have any remorse, Cersei died because of her, she and the other two took her away from him.  
To be a mother had killed her.  
She came to him saying “We both lost our dearest sibling” before hugging him.  
She didn’t have any idea, she couldn’t compare, she lost her family?  
He lost everything.  
The rage he felt took his numbness away,and thanks to that he could feel how her body was perfectly like Cersei’s,how her hair shone like Cersei’s.Her eyes weren’t quite right, they weren’t as blazing as Cersei’s had been...but she smelled like Cersei!  
It was her perfume. His gift to her, because no one had to smell like her, the perfume was for his lion’s queen, not for this little Martell princess.  
If she wanted to wear this perfume she had to be his queen.  
Talking to her had been awkward, she was nice to him, she was nice to everyone, but he doubts she liked him more than Stannis.  
He knew Renly and Tyrion had always been her favourites.  
He was uncle Jaime, her mother's twin who didn’t marry and was always near her mother.  
It had been so easy to convince her to follow him, she was so trusting, also was very easy to make her believe it would be better if she wouldn’t say she was going with him.  
She said to Tyrion, to the perceived 30 Martells who were there, she would like to be alone.  
She would maybe rent a cabin in the woods.  
“This is ridiculous Cella! This is exactly the substance of every horror movie! You need to talk, to be with people not to cloister yourself!” said a tall dark girl, Obara or something like that  
“You can stay with your favourite uncle, dear. I wouldn’t like to think about you lost in the woods” had said Tyrion, more a father than ever.  
“I’m 22, an adult, capable of making decisions. I don’t know how long I will take, but I need this, please”  
-Good girl-  
“Beware of wolfs Myrcella”  
-and of the lions, never forget the lions-  
They didn’t talk all that much in his car, they had stopped to a mall so Myrcella could buy some clothes, she had lost all her cases in the plane crash.  
She seemed happy to not to have to speak. She was much better than Cersei at hiding her emotions, she sometimes reminded him of his father.  
Not a reassuring sentiment.  
“Uncle Jaime you really wasn’t over exaggerating as you say it was secluded. No one would think there is a house in this place”  
“Do you like it here?”  
“I don’t know it is very dark, but I guess the trees are beautiful. Do I…is the sea near?”  
“Yes, a little private beach, you can see the sea, but you won't be seen”  
“What do you want to hide uncle Jaime?”  
-My treasure -  
“I’d wanted to take your mother with me, so she could have mourn undisturbed. I hope this will help you”  
He could see how her eyes filled with tears, he did gave her credit, she could suppress her tears better than most women.  
They ate without any appetite, almost in silence, it was late and Myrcella soon asked to see her room.  
-What to do next?-  
His plan had been to convince (he would have tried) or abduct (more likely) Cersei, he had supplies for months, maybe even years! Fresh vegetables in the garden, cans, he had hired a gardener and whatever else he needed would be delivered in a cabine 4 miles away from his house.  
His Cersei had been a wild creature he had been ready to tame her. He even had a straitjacket, handcuffs and some drugs ready. He had planned to cure her alcohol addiction and had hoped to use the handcuffs for more pleasurable games.  
He had wanted to fuck her in every room and every position he wanted.  
Of course he would have had to punish her, her affair wasn’t forgiven and forgotten, this would have been fun to.  
He wasn’t sure how to start, the-not-yet-Cersei had had been an impromptu action, Cersei had been born with him, he knew her body as good as her, some parts even better than her. He could sense her arousal, her mood swings, her wishes.  
He knew that he had to turn a blind eye to some of her attics, but not anymore.  
Cersei had been a wild and exquisite creature, a woman who couldn’t have not been doomed. He had loved to see her greedy and ruthless, but then she slipped from his fingers,this wouldn’t happen a second time.  
He should have never let her get married, he shouldn’t have let her give birth to the children of another man , he should have kidnapped her sooner.  
The-not-yet-Cersei owed him her life, he hadn’t killed her for causing Cersei's death.  
This time he would have a different version of Cersei, a manageable one, one who would be truly his.  
He didn’t gave a damn if she didn’t want this.  
Life wasn’t a song, there were no knights, and it was so easy to lose part of oneself; Cersei had been as much a part of him as his missing hand.  
You can’t always have what you want, but Lannister’s paid their debts, and she would pay.  
He decided not to wait, he had so much work to do, he had no time for a leisurely pace.  
He wouldn’t gag her, why? Nobody would be able to hear her. But he would use the handcuffs, he wasn’t in the mood for games.  
He had no desire to play the good uncle.  
A doe who would venture to the den of the lions, would be devoured.  
A lioness who would venture to the den, well she would be fucked.  
He didn’t know to which sort the-not-yet-Cersei belonged to, but soon he would have an answer.  
-How can she sleep with the moon shining this bright!-  
Myrcella’s curtains weren’t closed, in the moonlight she seemed like a marmor statue. Her beauty ethereal almost overwhelming.  
But Jaime Lannister knew perfection since his birth, he was pleased to see that her resemblance wasn’t only in her face. The proud round breasts barely concealed in her cheap cotton nightgown, the long shapely legs he could intuit under the covers, her delicious face…  
His cock was hard, yeah, now he knew he could take the next step.  
He would fuck her


	4. Stranger in the night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She was guilty.  
> She had to pay.  
> She paid.

“Mmh...yeah…please...Trystane”  
The feelings were the most delicious ever.  
A warm tongue playing with her nipple, a firm strong hand massaging her breast.  
The hand wandered down below between her legs, while the tongue continued tireless to delight her breast.  
Trystane, dear Trystane seems to want to indulge her, and he was today more skilled than ever…  
\- but Trystane doesn’t have such callous hand- Trystane had the beautiful slender body of a runner, and delicate rangy hands.  
“Aegon” she murmured...no, no it couldn’t be, it wasn’t right, this can’t be a dream, the sensations were too strong, too vivid.  
She woke up, her body shuddered from an orgasm.  
“My God!” she cried, her eyes seeing the golden hair and the beautiful face of her mother’s twin “Uncle ...Jaime?”   
Why? Why? Why?How?  
“Uncle Jaime?” she couldn’t think straight, it was hard to believe, it wasn’t possible for her to believe.  
“Would you please drop the uncle?” he asked calmly, not withdrawing, not trying to deny anything.   
-like it is something normal to creep in his niece’s bed and sexually assaulting her!-  
“Un...Jaime please, stop it, I don’t know what is wrong with you!I’m your niece!I’m Myrcella!”  
she said, trying to not sound scared, this wasn’t normal, he wasn’t normal.   
She couldn’t let herself becoming hysteric, he could be dangerous.  
She tried to rise herself, but he held her down, now she could feel the cold from his artificial hand.  
He was so damn strong, his body was ripped with muscles. She wasn’t able to move him even a little bit.  
Through the moonlight she could see him very well, it was the uncle she always knew, the one who was there as she was born, the one she always celebrates Christmas with.   
Her mother’s twin, her mother’s best and only friend.  
He looked like always, but she couldn’t see a trace of his familiar humor.  
He took both her wrist in one of his hands, Myrcella’s disbelief soon developed to apprehension, she felt cold steel on her wrists  
-handcuffs, no please,no handcuffs-  
Once as a fourteen years old, she had read Stephen King’s “Gerald’s game” in which the heroine was cuffed to the bed with the corpse of her husband, alone in a cabin in the woods...the thought not being able to move in a secluded place scared her…  
“Please uncle Jaime, I will not do anything, please don’t cuff me, I will do anything you want, please don’t hurt me!”  
“What do you think I want to do to you?” he asked politely  
-Surely not to play Cyvasse with me!- “Rape... me?” she swallowed, this was absurd!  
“Why do you think, I want to do this?” he didn’t deny, Myrcella had hoped he would say something like -it’s a joke, I lost a bet- but this wan uncle Jaime and not uncle Tyrion  
“Because you are mad with grief and you don’t know what you are doing?” she attempted  
“Do you think I’m crazy?”   
“Do you think what you are doing, is sane?” he laughed again, Myrcella didn’t know if this was a good or a bad sign.  
“No punning, please, I have Tyrion for this. Do YOU think I’m crazy?”  
-What to say? Yes, you are a crazy perverted rapist?I’m scared?-  
“You aren’t yourself, my mother’s death, must have hurt you deeply. I look like her and you are trying to bond?”  
He laughed again, Myrcella started to feel angry  
“Do you think I’m funny? Do you really think this whole situation is even a bit funny?” she couldn’t control herself. She was pissed.  
“Probably both. Funny, well I can say it.A man in your bed shouldn’t be something funny, I think”  
“Can I ask you why you are doing this to me? Or are you the only one asking questions?”  
“Why is my sister, the only woman I’ve ever loved dead? Yes, because of a little idiot who wasn’t able to call after her plane crashed” he lifted her chin, voice dripping with anger.”You and your siblings took her away from me and now from life. Do you want to know how she looked after your “death”? Well she was dead herself. A corpse without soul. You aren’t worth her life. You will pay for it. The world doesn’t need you”  
Myrcella looked at him like a rabbit would look at a snake.   
-He wants me dead- his body on her was hot, his voice frozen, Myrcella shivered, she was cold.  
“You will rape me and then kill me?” her voice sounded like that of a little scared girl.  
“No dear, I need Cersei and you need to atone for your sins. I don’t want you dead”  
Myrcella was confused, didn’t he want revenge? Not killing her? Torture her?  
“You will be my Cersei.”   
“Please? How…?” did she have to play her mother?  
“I will show you, how”  
Myrcella was disgusted.   
Disgusted of herself ; a part of her telled her he was right, another yelled he was wrong. Disgusted of her body.   
She didn’t want this.   
This wasn’t right. He was her uncle, he had her mother’s face...her face! Still she couldn’t suppress her body’s reaction.  
His hands, his mouth were at everyplace of her body.   
He wasn’t tender, but demanding claiming her body like it was his right, and he was damned skilled, Myrcella didn’t know how he managed to find every erogene zone in her body, some of them even unbeknownst to her.  
How much she hated the betrayal of her body.   
She was wet like never before, and for the first time she was crying while having sex.  
As he intruded inside herself, she sobbed, it didn’t hurt, it felt very good, but the chorus inside her head chanted “you killed your mother, you enjoy having sex with your uncle, you are a whore, you wanted to fuck Aegon, slut, you have to pay your debt,nobody needs you…”   
He was inside her, pumping, taking her hips in his hands to better reach, deeper, harder, faster.   
He stared at her body but never once did he look her in her eyes.  
What did he think? Was he thinking or did he just feels?  
She tried to concentrate on the pleasure, She couldn’t suppress herself, and maybe maybe she wouldn’t hear the voices anymore.  
She closed her legs around his waist, arching her back, her arms around his neck.  
For the first time she experienced multiple orgasms, with the man she never had wanted to sleep with, or better she never thought about; her uncle!  
Why did it feel so good? Because she didn’t care for his feelings ?Because she didn’t work to give him satisfaction?  
He did have stamina, Myrcella didn’t know how long the session lasted. Thirty minutes? Fifty minutes? Hours? She couldn’t tell.She didn’t care.  
She was guilty.  
She had to pay.  
She paid.


	5. The beginning

It had been a surprise.

Her reactions had confused him, she had barely fought him, aside from how much she seemed scared by the handcuffs, she had been docile and almost submissive.

She had readily accepted her punishment. He couldn’t even tell if this had been a punishment for her, hadn’t he knew better, he had sworn she had faked her pleasure.

But he _knew_ better, he did know that face, it was Cersei’s when she didn’t had wanted to feel or show pleasure. Her shock and disappointment for feeling unwanted pleasure and to be unable to hide it.

He took his espresso, bitter, stinging, gone after a few sips. The memory of burning kisses… Not yet.Not now.He couldn’t think about her or he would drown in despair.

He made some apple pancakes and put them in a heated bin, he was finishing to chop the fruit for the salad, Myrcella was a vegetarian like Tommen had been.

More a doe than a lioness?

Outside the sun hide himself behind clouds, he could smell rain and the rotting leaves, it would soon start to be uncomfortable, but inside the temperature was almost cozy, he hated the cold -Winter is coming- he muttered, but he wouldn’t let him in. He was well known for being one of the best dressed bachelor in the country, but at home he wore just some faded jeans and a polo shirt nothing more.

The not yet Cersei had been more than just a good fuck, Cersei didn’t have an orgasm their first time, but he had been her first and he had just been an inexperienced virgin. The girl was abnormally sensitive, she had been so ridiculously easy to please, he really hadn’t do that much.

She must have had more experience, she had murmured two men names before orgasming from just his finger and she hadn’t have been awake! Than she had been scared, very scared, angry, sad and after that she had fucked him like a bitch in heat roaring and screaming. Both him and Cersei had been the silentious kind, they had enjoyed to talk dirty, but they had come murmuring each other name, silent, always quietly. Her loud passion wasn’t that grievous, how often did he want to hear Cersei scream?, but it still was...unsettling.

A little bird picked something from his patio. 

"What I’m a doing?” he asked not opening the french door. He couldn't tell a bird apart from another, Tyrion could have say the family, habits and more. He had to phone him, fortunately Daenerys Targaryen kept him occupied all the time, but he knew Tyrion would be concerned about his big brother. He didn’t had a phone in the house. He had took the girls mobile and tablet away, her clothes (really his Cersei wearing this bought of the peg trash?) and he wondered how she would act.

He didn’t had to wait long, at seven the not-yet Cersei descended the stairs. Her sight was sufficient to send a lot of blood in his groin. She must have only just showered, her long curly hair free over her shoulders, her face beautiful and fresh without any makeup, she wore a short golden silk dressing gown, one of them who clinged to the body, and he could see she hadn't any lingerie under… She saw his lustful glare and lowered her eyes for a few minutes before looking at him daring.

He had to smile. “Good morning...Jaime” the both could hear the not said “Uncle”

“Good morning, slept well?” -after what we did- he did not say it aloud, but she reddened a bit

"Thank you yes, and you?”

“Thanks to you, very well. Do you like some coffee?”

She took place at the small breakfast room

"The sight is lovely” she continued polite, looking valiant outside.

“The sight is more than lovely it is breathtaking” he was looking at her and he didn’t take his eyes away, this time she didn’t lowered her eyes either.

“You already knew I would enjoy it. You was marvelous bathing in moonlight and even more now” he took her hand between his, slowly he started to kiss her wrists, her face may have looked calm, but her pulse was racing.

"You are scared” it wasn’t a question

“Yes I’m.One day you are just my distant uncle, the next day you rape me. You take my mobile and my clothes away...I have to play my mother! I’m afraid to go to the garden and to find the tombs of Cersei I. till VI. Do I need to be afraid? What will you do if I’m not willing to play Cersei Lannister? For how long anyway? What will you do if I don’t behave? Do I get a spank? A tour to your torture room?”

"Don’t worry, I don’t have a cemetery in the yard.” Better not to tell her about the urne in his room “You are Cersei, my sweet sister. I didn’t love any other woman. I will not and I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Oh really? How could I ever think you would do something crazy? You want only my best, to take my identity, lock me in the house without contacts, far away from the civilization...U...Jaime you are a creep!”

“Well roar’d lion! I have a question. You know I’m a creepy rapist, don’t you think the succinct thing you are wearing is an open invitation? What are you planning to do seduce me?I’m a willing victim”

Strike! For just an instant he could see her surprise, but she hid it very well.

“Shouldn’t I tell you how fuckable you are looking? Between the breakfast and your lovely cunt, I know what I want to eat the most right now”

She was getting red, embarrassed, angry. Her hard nipples poked at her gown.

She looked so much like his Cersei, he was getting weak.

"Someone told me, we women have a weapon between our legs”

-Sounded like Cersei, and Cersei had been a champion at using her weapons-

“You want to kill me within”

“Lately there had been too many dead Lannisters. I will fuck you, you will see you are just running away and you will set me free”

“In the meantime I can freely fuck you?” she nodded “And if I get addicted to you?” he pushed his fingers between her legs, she was wet despite her stiffening

“Or you to me?”


	6. The descent

For the first time she had been fucked, her uncle Jaime had fucked her. “You are my Cersei,“ he had whispered into her ears. She closed her eyes, drilling her head in the pillow. No, of course not, because Mother would had never have done this with her twin. She would never believe he had slept with her mother. He was delusional, sick, nothing more.  
Mom had not loved her father, but she had been proud to be lady Baratheon, the queen of high society. She had surely loved her brother like Myrcella had loved Tommen, but she had been a relatively normal woman, with a relatively unhappy marriage. Uncle Jaime had never been married; she had never even seen him with a woman beside his friend Brienne, and Brienne would soon be hanged than betraying her husband with Jaime Lannister.  
Strangely, there had never been rumors of his sexual orientation, but grandfather had been a lonesome widow since very young, and there weren’t any rumors about him, either. Everyone thought that her uncle and her grandfather were simply more discrete than uncle Tyrion. That was; uncle Jaime was not a shy, virgin boy obsessed with a woman unattainable. He had experience, a lot of experience. Myrcella figured he had probably slept with women who had resembled his sister, and with the beauty and the money he had, it hadn’t been a difficult task - every time the same kind of woman, like a serial killer.   
She shuddered; his idol had died, and he “took” the woman who looked like her. Maybe he wouldn’t had if she still had the scar. Would he have looked at her twice with the cut that had disfigured her face? All that money spent on the best plastic surgeons, so that Jaime Lannister could have his golden doll. She didn’t facilitate any illusions, she knew for sure that she wouldn’t find her phone, and it was so. She only had been surprised when she did not find her own clothes, had he not wanted her to run around naked? The cabinet that the night before had been empty, was now full of clothes.  
After having had her way with her, he had returned and replaced her things; this annoyed her. That is, the fact that he came in her room uninvited… and he had came inside her uninvited… She rose from the bed, it looked outside as though it were already late. Normally, she would have woken up very early. She liked the early morning hours, when the weather wasn’t too hot yet. She would have a swim or go for a jog with Obara, or spend time reading under a tree near the water garden. It always gave her a good feeling; she could be alone, but she didn’t have to be.  
She couldn’t think about Dorne now, about the people she loved like a real family. A family where your father wasn’t a drunken stranger, your mother hard to bear, your oldest brother even harder. The Baratheon family had shrunken terribly, and the remaining people didn’t like each other. On the other hand, the Lannisters were absolutely dysfunctional. Mother hated uncle Tyrion, uncle Tyrion resented her and his father, his father had lived only for the family name, ignoring that his family was composed by humans, and to top all this; uncle Jaime was a man with an unhealthy obsession for his twin sister, and had abducted his niece only because she resembled her mother.  
She felt sticky and messy, she didn’t take a shower the night before, and she could feel his dried seed between her thighs and inside her vagina. She winced, disgusted, the sensation was unavowed, and she felt drenched.   
Trystane had always used condoms. He had never wanted her to take the pill, “It’ll mess with your hormones, Cella! You could get an embolism! It’s simpler to put on a condom!”   
She looked at the mirror, she had hickeys everywhere. The look of his seed spilled on her was obscene. She was flushed, red with discomfort.

No more thinking about Trystane.  
Myrcella saw herself as a normal girl, almost trivial, sure her upbringing had been strict, and she had always been prepared to be a perfectly educated lady. Strangely her own parents seemed to ignore the basic rules of education. Robert Baratheon cursed and got drunk for baptisms and business dinners, while Mom blatantly ignored people who weren’t liked by her.  
The two had strong and domineering personalities that made them fascinating, but difficult to manage.  
Joffrey had taken them as examples to follow, Myrcella as an example to not follow. She would never have been a slave of emotions and base instincts. Myrcella had admired her granddad, the last real lion of the family, for he was intelligent, astute, and ruthless. She had wanted to be his female version. Well, with a little more of humor and not so… cruel. 

She forced herself not to think about her family, about the dead, or about Dorne anymore. The situation was awful, she needed her wits, to be cool like her granddad, like uncle Tyrion. She had to be like her grandfather now, she had to play her uncle’s game and try to find a way to escape. Uncle Jaime wanted Cersei. He would get his Cersei… for now.

" or you addicted to me” he had said, and it was so damn easy, just too easy! Yes, she had wanted to seduce him. Myrcella didn’t comprehend why. Normally, a normal woman, should shuddered from hate just thinking about his touch! She should vomit just at the feeling of his cock inside her. She should have. But she definitely wasn’t.   
Lying at the breakfast table, legs spread apart, and his tongue and mouth and teeth working her core. She never allowed Trystane to do this to her, partly because she didn’t want him to think her wanton, but mostly because of his feelings for her. Trystane's love had always been pure and beautiful. The love she had wanted, the union of two souls. They would never disrespect each other, never cheat, never be like her parents or like his uncle, sister and cousins. They would never “fuck.” They would make love. She had always wanted him to kiss her during sex, so he wouldn’t hear her obscene moans.   
Now, well Jaime didn’t want her, and she surely didn’t want to make love to him. This was a physical therapy for both. He would get over his sick obsession - she was sure after this - and she would be able to put down this lewd part of her personality that she loathed.   
After exorcising her demons, she would strive to be the perfect wife for Trystane. A faithful wife who would only love and want him.   
Didn’t he find this degrading? To put his head between her legs and lick and suck her? It was degrading for her, as she was not able to control herself and could only lose control and scream aloud.  
She had never been this wild.  
“I guess this is your version of “hear me roar,”” murmured Jaime, raising his head after making a mess of her. His lips, his nose were glistering from her juice, but thanks the Gods he didn’t comment further. Now he was looking at her flushed face smirking, “Weapon between your legs… did you want to suffocate me, or were you only too eager?” he asked playfully, while she decided to ignore him, but his proudly, shameless standing erection couldn’t be ignored much longer.  
“I will not blow you,” she didn’t give him a chance to ask her, she wouldn’t do this, not with him.  
“You enjoyed, but you don’t want to reciprocate... How cold of you sweetling, very cold.”  
“You didn’t have to do it, I didn’t ask.” Well, hell, she kind of did, but she hadn’t meant cunnilingus.  
“No blowjobs and no sex without protection,” she added, remembering the mess of last night. “I would say it is common education to use a condom while engaging in sexual intercourse… with someone,” she had wanted to say niece, but she didn’t had wanted him to remember who she was, or better who she wasn’t.   
She couldn’t forget; he may look like family, but he was dangerous. He had laughed his contagious laugh, winking at her, “Oh, common education… golden girl, you are really the best! Not only that, you are damn right, I only came inside your tight cunt, because I believed you were on the pill. Now If you would wait, my dear, I’ll be right back.”  
Myrcella felt like she won the battle. She decided they didn’t need to fuck on the table, she took place on the couch. To be honest, she was hungry, but this would not be fair after the way he had pleasured her.  
He was back, naked, beautiful and aroused. “Birth Control and no oral sex…,” she stopped him, “actually, no blowjobs...if you like to use your tongue...well I’m not against that.” He looked at the moisture between her legs. “Not against,” he spoke softly while rolling the condom.  
“I’d like to see how you react when you like what I do,” he teased, and Myrcella didn’t disappoint.

 

Read, cook, talk, do her chores, watch tv, and have a lot of sex. This became Myrcella’s routine. She did the things she had told her family she would do, besides the sex of course. She was ashamed to admit, but it wasn’t unpleasant to be Jaime’s pretend to be Cersei; he spoiled her. Bathing her, drying her, massaging her body with her mother’s favourite oil, brushing her hair till it shone.  
She felt nothing like a slave, more like his lover. He was easy to be with, not to mention funny, sexy. It was really strange, but her fear diminished very fast - after all, she had always been adaptable. It wasn’t like in some psycho film. She wasn’t handcuffed, and she could freely go around in and outside of the house. No torture setting in the basement, no graves in the garden. Honestly, almost normal.  
Bushes surrounded the vast ground and the cancel was closed. She knew he had a cabin with a telephone somewhere near, like she knew he had his car somewhere too.Her plan to seduce him to get the keys had been a failure. He was a very light sleeper, and every time, she managed to fall asleep before him either way.  
They had sex often, almost everywhere, almost because she had never seen his room, and it was the only room in the house who was locked. Myrcella felt like she was living in a kind of alternative universe.   
Did she really just lose the rest of her beloved family?   
Had she ever even been in Dorne?  
Was her name… Cersei?  
They lived like some newlywed couple, married a few months after first meeting. Yet, despite being related, Jaime was still a stranger for her. She slept in her room alone, they cooked together (he was a far better cook than herself, which continued to surprise her at every meal, every dish), they did the dishes, cleaned together (she was happy that the house had only six rooms). Sometimes, she would have liked to ask how the Hell he had ever wanted to convince her mother to clean. Myrcella could better imagine her mother sleeping with her brother than cleaning the bathroom… but then she stopped. Better not remind him that she wasn’t Cersei. Because Cersei was loved and Myrcella tolerated. And she wanted to be loved.


	7. Unexpected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was more confused than happy

In the first week of October, he decided it was time to use the open hearth fireplace.  
She had only said something like “how romantic,” and both of them knew they would fuck before the big fire. He had been sure as he saw how Cersei had stared at his nude torso.  
It had been unexpected, but they seemed to ride the same wave, to have the same appetite for sex.   
She had prepared some sandwiches and things that could be eaten without cutlery. This Cersei was both practical and passional, a mix he liked. She had surprised him in the morning, they were having sex in the bath tub, and she had told him how much she enjoyed riding him, it was the first time she spoke about sex.  
Hot, wild, sensual she may be in bed (and not only there), but after regaining her breath, she behaved rather prudish. In their five weeks together, she hadn’t once talked about sex, she didn’t joke about sex, she didn’t actively start to fuck, even when he could see she wanted to.  
His twin had never be a prude, she had played with his and her body freely, without any boundary.  
This little Victorian princess had just started to timidly touch his cock, she wouldn’t blow him… she even didn’t play with her clit! She had clearly had some issue with her sexuality, his queen had expected to be pleasured, nothing less. The new Cersei seemed to feel shame after letting herself get loose.  
In bed, she didn’t fight her feelings, she had been the passive kind, but not anymore, or so it appeared. They started, or better yet, she started before lunch; she had almost ripped his shirt, and once again, she was on top of him, her new favorite position, moving her hips fluidly, and angling herself so he could reach deeper, she set a leisurely rhythm, stopping now and again when her feelings were too overwhelming.  
Her teeths were biting her underlips, she looked like an apt student. He had wanted to let her play, but this was torture. He started to thrust fast and hard, she collapsed on him, wet and glistening, gorgeous. For a moment he desired nothing more than kiss her lips, instead he did the next best thing, he sucked her nipples, letting her cry out in ecstasy. Sometimes he had the feeling, he had sucked more on her breast than as a baby at his mother tits. Her nipples weren't right, darker and bigger than they should be, but he didn't have to see them when they were in his mouth or between his fingers.  
After finishing he stripped the condom off; sensitive nipples, great sex drive, and after over a month together, no menstruation.  
Damn.  
“Cersei.”   
“I don’t want to stand up, I don’t want you to stand up, I want to lay a little longer. I don’t even know if I can stand,” she added with a languid sigh, while caressing his torso, delicately pinching his nipples.. .she surely had changed a great deal, Cersei had loved to play with his body. “Our body,” she told him. Sometimes, it seemed to be more her body than his.  
“Five weeks and you haven’t bled,” he started to voice his real thoughts.  
The caresses stopped for a little bit, but she started again, laughing mockery to Jaime. “It happens when I’m nervous or sad. After Joffrey’s death, I didn’t bleed for four months. Have no fear, we are using protection, you came only the first night inside. But I do have some unusual cravings.”  
“What?”   
Her hands were daring, this was familiar, like it should be.  
“I want to taste your cock,” her voice was sure and firm, her hands too.   
Jaime was shocked.

He didn’t know if she wasn’t aware of her pregnancy, or she was delusional. She was pregnant, he was sure about this; this wasnt his first time with a pregnant woman. Her body was changing, but he could understand why she wasn’t conscious. Her personality changed too.  
The way she touched him, the way she spoke… it was like she was peeled from layer after layer of her constructed older self, and in her core, there was Cersei.  
That was what he told himself. She had always been Cersei, but family and the whole fucking world hadn’t allowed her to be herself. She had always been Cersei, it hadn’t been her decision not to be her true self, instead, they had made her a prudish boring bluestocking.  
Now she was wildfire and passion… and pregnant.  
The child would destroy the blooming harmony between them, but maybe she wouldn’t want to have the child. He could live without being a father, he couldn’t had been the father of his twin’s children, but he could be this child’s father, the situation was different. He was her 'uncle', this was not approved, but at least allowed. He didn’t know what he wanted, but he knew, he had to wake his sleeping beauty from her delusion. She was pregnant, and she had to make a decision.

“We only did one night without protection, only one night, Jaime,” she was sobbing at his chest. Red eyes, trembling lips, running nose. A picture of misery.  
"What should I do?"  
“Be what you want to be, say what you want to say. You want to abort? You can, you want to keep the baby… you can. You are Cersei, you have always been Cersei, you just need to be your true self.”  
"Jaime, I'm scared. A baby is a great responsibility. I don't know if I'm ready. Jaime, I can't have a child here. We can't hide it from the world," she was sobbing. He wanted to take her to bed. His sister cried only for him to see. Only he knew how fragile and how strong she really was. Cersei was his strong lioness with the most beautiful and frail butterfly wings attached. This time he would take care that the world wouldn't hurt her. He stroked her hair, kissing her forehead. His brave girl gave him a tremulous smile.

He would have liked to be alone for a bit, but he couldn't leave her alone, not while she was scared and pregnant. She craved his presence, she wanted to be reassured. She wanted to be loved. Two days after their talk, she had taken his hand, and placed it on her still flat stomach. She made her choice.

They were traveling to the city, a great risk for him. She could have run to the police or to Tyrion. Either way it wouldn't have ended good for him. She was wearing one of the dresses he had bought for Cersei, looking calmer and very beautiful. It was her first visit to the gynecologist.   
She had wanted to use her new name, so that Tyrion wouldn't track her.  
He had given her phone back to her, and she reciprocated the gesture with the look of a grateful puppy. It stung.

First thing she had done after getting her phone was to break up with her fiancé. She called him and wrote a letter. She spoke with Tyrion. She threw her phone away, and bought a new one. Didn't use her credit cards. She didn't want to be found.

The appointment was for Cersei Lannister. Mr. and Mrs. Lannister would have a little boy in the late spring. Cersei was the radiant mother-to-be. Jaime kissed her for the first time on her lips. He was more confused than happy.


	8. Goodbye Myrcella

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need a beta reader!

Goodbye Myrcella

 

December came really fast!  
She wasn't a prisoner anymore, had she even be a prisoner?  
She had her own car, someone came and they had telephone and wifi in the house.  
Jaime had wanted to hire some help for the house, but she hadn't want someone to disturb their intimacy.  
Jaime had teached her not to be ashamed of her carnal needs, but she found it easier to fuck on the table when nobody was near.  
Still she wouldn't use her credit cards and various accounts. Uncle Tyrion was surely try to find her. She had enough informatics skill to secure her position, but after some time uncle Tyrion would surely use professionals.  
She had called Trystane.  
It hadn't been easy, she had loved Trystane, but she had been 'forced' to like him. She had been sent to a family that hated hers, to love Trystane had been a way to live in peace.  
She told him that she couldn't be with him anymore. That she still liked him, but like a friend. That they were over.  
She wrote some letters too. She used a service when you could chose the land the letters were sent.  
The Martell would think her in Canada.  
She called uncle Tyrion too.   
She needed more time alone, she was fine, she wouldn't love Trystane anymore. She hadn't needed any money because she had been working. No she didn't join a sect. She didn't need help. She had decided to take a sabbatical year. Of course she would reach him! To please give her just one year.  
She would write him. How was uncle Jaime? He should greet uncle Jaime, great uncle Kevan and his family, great aunt Genna and her family...

She was positive he would try to find her. But he wouldn't search for Cersei Lannister.  
She had the best ID money could buy.  
The babe, they didn't talk about names yet, but for her it was already Tommen, was developing just fine.   
She owned already so many pictures of their little boy!  
Jaime was confused and overwhelmed. Well he was forty four and it was his first son, no wonder he was...strange?  
They still had a very passionate sexual life, she had been scared he wouldn't be attracted to her because she had gained already fifteen pounds and her stomach was showing, she looked further than four months pregnant the gynecologist had told her that it was normal because she had been too thin before the pregnancy.  
Jaime was an arduous lover despite her changing figure.  
She was healthy and young. She didn't had any disturb, aside for fear.  
She feared to be still too much Myrcella.  
By now she knew why he liked so much to suck on her nipples, he didn't want to see them because they weren't like her mother's had been.  
Sometimes he would look at her like she was a stranger, like she weren't right...  
He told her she could decide about her pregnancy, but he hadn't told her about his feelings for their child.  
She feared for her little Tommen her same fate; an indifferent father and a mother trying to give too much love.  
But Jaime loved her!  
How could she doubt him when he had kissed her like this? he had kissed her full on her lips.  
She was carrying her baby boy, she was in love and she was loved.  
She was happy.   
She tried not to think about herself as Myrcella anymore, she still wasn't sure how she would explain her son why her father called her mother with his grandmother name...   
She still didn't believe that Jaime had ever been with her mother, he had loved her, but mom hadn't loved him back the way he had craved.   
He had been alone and desperate. Jaime needed her like no one before.  
Her family had give her away to be "fostered" by the "enemy" like she wasn't important; not like Joffrey or even Tommen.  
She had been Myrcella, good natured, mature, smart. They knew she would made everything to not shame her family.  
True to be told; it hadn't been difficult to love her foster family.  
The Martell were hot blooded, but they cared for their loved one.  
Myrcella would have never broken up with Trystane, but as Cersei she could do anything.

 

"Jaime I love you" she whispered satisfied  
She curled up on his chest stroking the golden hair there  
'My beautiful lion' she thought, she heard him wince and she had wanted to laugh about this, but his gaze made her smile die on her lips  
"What is wrong?" She asked worried  
He broke away from her polite but firm  
"What is?" repeated Myrcella " I told you that I love you, is something so horrible?"  
"No, not horrible, it is only a thing of no value"  
Her heart felt, she could not really believe what he was saying, no?  
“Jaime, I'm serious I really love you” she sat on the bed, wishing to look more proper.  
He grinned and laughed. Not like himself at all.  
“Words that you have already told Trystane and Aegon and maybe to other” he replied  
His gaze measuring her body without tenderness, without warmth, as if she was a prostitute  
“You are the father of my child” she tried to reason with him, didn’t he realize that the child bond them forever to each other? But he laughed, an ugly laugh.  
“So you would love anyone who had knocked up? You're a very passionate woman despite at the beginning you were acting like a schoolmarm. I was able to satisfy your cravings and now you think you love me. I do not need oaths of love darling. To fuck you is enough”  
Anger, shame and disappointment made her tears to her eyes.  
Without even realizing it she had crossed her arms on the belly as to protect her child.  
Suddenly she felt clumsy and dirty, sweaty with his sperm trickling between her thighs, her swollen belly, while he looked down, cold and not involved, like a golden statue, he looked and judged mockingly.  
She wanted to cry, why did he treat her that way?  
But she would not start crying, she was not the pedantic Myrcella,the good girl, now she was Cersei Lannister, and would not allow the man that she loved to go away.   
Cersei Lannister was ready to fight.  
She really loved him. She had believed to love Trystane, he had been a friend in the period in which he had had more need. Growing up she had learned to love him. He had always been good to her, had always respected and treated well. To him she was his angel, and she had always behaved not to lose his esteem and affection.  
Jaime the other hand, he had kidnapped and raped her.Jaime had never gave a damn about Myrcella, he had “taken” her only because she looked like the woman he loved.  
But she felt she could become the woman he wanted, and when he would finally understand that she loved him, she would be the woman most desired and loved in the world.  
She just had to cease to be "Myrcella Baratheon" , because Jaime didn't want her perfect, polite, rational, functional.  
Jaime wanted her to be like she had always wanted to be, and she wanted him.  
In addition he was the father of the creature she was carrying.   
She could never love the child, if she had not loved his father!   
She had to let him know that she was serious.  
"Jaime I've always loved you. You have always been part of my life. Of course I had never thought of you as my lover, but now you are. With you I can be as I want to be, and not as others would like me to be. I love you and I want you, you would not have noticed. I want to give birth to our child. I'm glad you're the father. " She got up from the bed and cast her arms around him.  
"Believe me silly. I love you" she kissed him  
Mom had married his father, and had surely broken her brother’s heart, but she would not.   
She would love him, she would birth and raise their children, she would always be close to him. As a lover, confidante, sister, wife. Because she loved him.  
In Europe they could marry, they would be happy.  
While she was thinking of wedding dresses and honeymoon, the tender kiss had turned into one full of brutal desire, she opened her eyes wide disoriented  
He had never been cruel to her, but his eyes made her shiver.  
“I've always loved you?” he repeated sarcastically, "Honey forgive me, but you didn't care at all about me. I can’t blame you, I did the same. You enjoy to be fucked by me, and as a little princess you want to paint everything pink. And isn’t it much more romantic to say that you love me instead that you are a little slut, right?  
She tried to free herself from the embrace, but he was too strong for her.  
"Your prince could not satisfy your cravings, which frankly surprises me, you are very easy. Maybe not hold your fast-paced? Or are you so fiery because you're pregnant? Strange I thought lionesses went into heat before becoming pregnant, but not all it seems. You are my delicious little princess in heat "  
She slapped him. Nobody in the world deserved a slap more than him .  
The light in his eyes told her that he acted like he wanted her to, be slap was something that the true Cersei would have done. His erection was touching her belly while he laughed again and threw her on the bed.  
In the bed where not even twenty minutes before she had been happy and sure of his love.  
And while he whispered appreciation, she decided that he was as easy to love as to hate.

It was simply and shocking humiliating. The fury was overwhelmed, what did he think she was?  
Did he really think he could do this to her?  
First seducing than leaving her? What would the other think? Poor Myrcella, she is a victim, she couldn’t replace her mother...No she wasn’t poor Myrcella anymore! She was Cersei and her child wouldn’t be an incident, a fatherless bastard.  
No she was a Lannister like him, maybe more than him, she wouldn’t let him toss her aside!  
He chosed to be her lover, she would not allow him to play the distracted uncle anymore.  
He was the father of her child, no Ser Jaime, no runaway from Cersei-Myrcella soon to be Lannister!  
He would be a father, of course she couldn’t force him to be her lover...she started to cry.  
She wasn’t good enough for him, she could imagine a life with him, but his passion for her had been an act out of desperation. He had never wanted her, his twin had been dead and she had just been here, wrong time, wrong place...But had it been really wrong? What would have happened if she had taken the plane?  
He would have killed himself, she was sure of this. She couldn’t suppress the shiver.   
She was needed, he needed her, because she could be Cersei, because she would love him, like he wanted to, completely.  
It had been a miracle, she was alive so he could be alive so they could have their baby.  
A baby with Cersei and his blood! Myrcella had to die so she could be Cersei and being happy with him and their child.  
Now that her mission, that her desires were clear, she felt relieved. Trystane and his family would mourn Myrcella, but they would live on. Uncle Tyrion would be sad, but not so sad as for losing his beloved big brother.  
“I’ve liked you Myrcella Baratheon, but from now on I need to be Cersei Lannister. Goodbye”  
She felt much better.


	9. Her name is Myrcella

Her name is Myrcella

 

Motherhood makes something with their minds.  
too had been a victim of her hormones.  
The cuddlings, kisses, her being jealous, her ‘our baby here, our baby there…’  
By the Seven, she believed in a future for both of them together, well the three of them.  
Her adoring gaze had been hard to bear, he prefered her angry and aroused, then she really looked like his Cersei.  
It seemed like now,she wanted to be his Cersei, but could she be trusted?   
She didn’t leave, but he hadn’t been the first man she had sweared to love.  
Could he believe in her? So soon? It had been what he had wanted, wasn’t it?  
Cersei in love with him.  
He didn’t had realize, but they had a relationship. They had lived like newly weds. The ring he had bought her for Christmas hadn't had any importance for him, but she seemed to believe it was a proposal...had he been crazy the whole fucking time?  
Damn, damn,damn.  
His only consolation was the fact that Tyrion would kill him, likely in a cruel gruesome fashion, a bolt through his bowel or he would attack him with an axe, his little brother had always had a kink for medieval things.  
She thought about marriage and raising children with him!  
His child, he still couldn’t believe that she would bear him a child.  
He loved her pregnant body. She was glowing and beautiful, a golden delicious pregnant tentation.   
His body was aroused by her swelling breast, her expanding bosom, the way she was even more sensitive than before.   
She made him horny all the time, and the only time he didn’t have to think about this whole mess, was the time he was fucking her.  
But she wouldn’t stay pregnant forever, soon a little disturber would make his appearance.  
His first official child.   
They had to been lucky if the baby wasn't a dwarf, but he could still have two heads or four legs, or maybe be as intelligent as Lolly Stokeworth.   
He could be the next Joffrey, but hey he would be there too! He could be a father for real. Cersei wouldn’t need to fill the indifference from her husband. Maybe even a little shithead Joffrey would have been normal if he had parents who didn’t hate each other.  
He hadn't been ready to think about this child.  
He had behaved like scum and he had hurt her feelings. He knew he was the only one deserving to be hurt. This Cersei loved him and would be faithful to him.  
It hadn't been easy to escape from Tyrion's good intentions, but he had managed to be with her for Christmas and the new year.   
Alone.  
She seemed happy and determined to forgive him.  
He had wanted to spend the holiday out the land, she had reasoned it was too risky, Tyrion could have found them, so he booked a suite in a very discreet luxurious resort.  
They had a truce; he would have to believe she loved him, she would trust him.

 

It was in February as Jamie's playing family shattered.  
While they had a very passionate sexual life, she still wasn't comfortable with blowing him, it wasn't like she was disgusted per se, but she had the fear to choke. She had hurt him with her teeth a few times and was very sensitive about her lacking skills.  
He clearly liked to be fellated, she wasn't able too.  
Oral sex had always played a part of the twins sexual life. The most intimate gest a way to be one again.  
Jaime hadn't forced her to do it, but every time he had the feeling that she wasn't his Cersei.  
He had joked about her inhibitions.  
One night she was lying in her bed in a new crimson lingerie, saying him if he want they could try something new, she was prepared for anal sex.  
Cersei had never allowed him to use her ass.  
She was beautiful and determined.  
He wanted her.  
He was inside her tight and good lubed orifice. Feeling guilty in his pleasure, she moaned in pain, he played with her clit.  
She looked so innocent, she had no right to look this innocent, not while pregnant and with his cock in her ass!  
"Jaime, my sweet love...I'm so full with you. Your baby in my womb, your finger in my pussy, your cock in my ass. Your tongue in my mouth..." he had to mobilize all his willpower to be tender, to not hurt her.  
He brought her orgasm with his fingers, after a few more trust he spent himself inside her.  
She loved him, she let him do this because...  
Because she knew he didn't love her.  
No he had wanted his twin, his Cersei, the one and only.  
The almost Cersei had been an error, an error he had indulged for far too long.  
A pregnant error who believed to love him.

She wasn’t his Cersei. That was the problem. She could never be. He was betraying Cersei, with a younger beautiful girl. God be good. She would have risen from the death, ripping and eating his heart raw...It would have been a blessing.  
Her name was Myrcella and she was most likely his daughter.  
He didn’t felt guilty because she came from his seeds. To have the same blood wasn’t an obstacle to him. But Cersei and him were aware to be siblings, Myrcella didn’t have a clue how close they were. He had been such an idiot he had wanted to pull the claws of a lioness, leaving her helpless.  
He had abducted, raped, brainwashed his niece and, despite the word hadn’t any meaning to him, his own daughter.  
He made her do things she wouldn’t have done, because she had wanted to secure his love.  
By which right did he do this?   
Cersei’s precious girl, with a normal relationship, normal friends...a normal girl.   
His missing hand hurt. For the first time he realized that Cersei wasn’t there. She was gone and would never come back to him.  
If it was true that a person lived in his children, two from three were dead and he was slowly but steadily choke the life out of the remanent one.  
She wasn’t Cersei. He was alone. Why was he alive if Cersei was dead?

Because he hadn’t loved her right.  
Because he had closed his eyes, because he had hated that she hadn’t been only his.  
He’d resented her children, her ambition, HER.  
He hadn’t marry, chose to be by her side, damn he had sacrificed his life to her.  
He realized that he had wanted all of her, she should have been his. She should have lived because of him, he should have been her first and last thought.  
He had never respected that she was someone else, he knew she was someone else, he should have made this clear to her that it was ok to be a woman.   
That she wasn’t him without a cock. That she was good...the time that she hadn’t be bad. He could have prevent her for making some errors, he had accepted her bad side as long as she had been his.  
He abandoned her in the time of need.   
She had been bad, the worst a whore the queen of whores because she dared to give other, what had belong to him.  
This had been her offer, Casterly Rock or her, he chose her.   
I love you I love you I love you  
He had played his part as lover, as dedicated ‘I’ll do everything for love’ man.  
She failed.  
He dismissed her.  
He knew she hadn’t any friends, he knew she was alone, he knew she had never felt whole.  
He deleted her messages. He didn’t respond. He killed her.  
I love you I love you I love you  
Her humiliation had been a balm for his burning ego.  
Let her suffer.   
What had been Cersei for him. Everything. If she was his everything why had he been happy that her marriage was a hell? Why hadn’t be able to care even as only a uncle for her...for their children?   
He hadn’t had wanted for her to have feelings, wherever feelings, except for him.  
Joffrey had been nothing for him, just a disturbance.  
He had fucked her before his corpse .   
He hadn’t cared for her mourning, what kind of memory this would have been for her.  
Had she even be willing? Why did he had assumed she would be always willing for him?  
Things had gone bad with Cersei since childhood, she had wanted to be him, a feeling he could understand, because he wouldn’t had wanted to be a woman.  
Don’t act like a fool, don’t act like a woman…  
Her marriage had been a humiliation after another   
They both hadn’t respected women, but Cersei had been one.  
Had his love always been this twisted and ugly?  
Was he destroying the only part of Cersei who hasn't be broken?   
Her daughter?  
Their daughter carrying his son? Cersei's and his grandchild?  
Why didn't he died with her?  
Why was he alive?  
It didn't made any sense!  
He had go to away, he couldn’t hurt her more than he already had.  
He tried to write something.   
Took her ashes.  
He had to go.

 

A


	10. Picking up the pieces

Picking up the pieces

 

He had a bad feeling  
He knew something wasn't right  
He didn't expect how bad

 

Tyrion hadn't liked Joffrey.  
Joffrey had been just a child, he too had been barely a teenager, he thought that he would like him later.  
Joffrey had been an annoying whiny version of Cersei, but while he couldn't fight the affection he had for his sister, he hadn't grow to like Joffrey.   
Lucky for him, he had still be sad about his death, but it hadn't hurt that much.  
Tommen's death had devastated him.  
Tommen had been the sweet little boy who had liked to read and eat pastries.   
Years later he was as tall and beautiful as Jaime but his smile was never cutting, it had been a warm sunshine.  
Myrcella had always been his favourite.  
Beautiful and smart. Capable and strong. He would look at her and see the best version of Cersei, other who had knew his mother, saw Joanna Lannister in her.  
He liked to think that someone looking like his mother loved him.  
Myrcella and Tommen loved him, he loved them back.  
Myrcella and Tommen had been Cersei's best creation, Cersei's and maybe...  
He had had the idea, years ago, to have a paternity test for his sister's children, but why?  
Cersei was still family, and even if she would had pushed his limits...could he really destroy   
the children's life?  
Jaime's? The first person who had loved him? His beloved big brother?  
No.  
Jaime had always been their sacred neutral ground, the only reason they hadn't killed each other.  
With the time he learned not to wonder why his niece and nephews hadn't any resemblance to their so called father and his family.  
Why Joffrey's curls, Tommen's eyes and Myrcella's hands were exactly like Jaime's.  
Jaime had been Cersei's twin, didn't he?  
He loved Tommen and Myrcella; loved them because they were family and because they deserved to be loved.  
So many disgrace had touched his family, he had lost a father, two nephews and a sister.  
He didn't want to lose his niece and his brother!

He hadn't liked that Myrcella had wanted to wander alone. He hadn't liked how Jaime had refused to stay with him.  
Brief calls from Jaime, letters from Myrcella.  
Myrcella who had broke her betrothal.  
"She loves Aegon" had been Daenerys comment.  
He had spoken with the young man, but no he hadn't been the reason for this break.  
Trystane had been desperate  
The Martells shocked.  
Then the letter from Jaime.   
He found his smart, capable, strong niece in denial...and pregnant.

 

“Well I don’t need to be Myrcella, I don’t need to control myself.”  
“You can foster Myrcella, yeah like I was some poor orphan. You have no idea! You have no idea how hard it is to be me. Did I wear sexy clothes? I’m a seductress like my mother. Drinking at a party, I’m like my father. I even feared to be too needy at sex, too cold and cunning, she is a Lannister...You, your sister, your brother...you never gave a damn! We had to work for our reputation and I’ve never done anything wrong. I’ve never done a thing who wasn’t proper or ladylike - Even with Trystane!- because they hated our family and I wanted to be loved!  
I want to be Cersei, I want to have my baby and I want Jaime...Why isn’t he here? Where is he?” 

 

He fucking couldn't believe it.  
Was his brother this insane, this perverted?  
First his sister and now his niece...and maybe daughter?   
Fuck it.  
He must knew she was his daughter.  
How could he do this?   
Disgusting   
An animal, not caring about blood relation.   
This was his big brother.

Where was Jaime? Was he still alive?  
Did he realized what he did to Myrcella and he killed himself?  
He had played family as long as he could.  
It was weird how Myrcella played Cersei  
It was insane  
Clothes, hair, attitude...  
It made him sick.

This had been rape  
Myrcella hadn't want to hear about this, she had cried, screamed, lost her senses.   
She hadn't want to leave their 'love nest'.  
He had to use all his cleverness to convince her. Jamie's child was a lion he had to be born and raised at the Rock.  
She agreed.  
Her pregnancy wasn't a risky one, but this whole mess, they had to be careful.  
He had to tell her she should eat so Jamie's child would be healthy, so that Jaime would be coming back to her.  
She ate  
He could have killed his brother

At May the first Myrcella's little boy had been born.  
A perfectly healthy boy with eyes so blue, that Tyrion foolish believed he had been wrong, Myrcella must have had Baratheon's blood, but after some time the color changed, the little one had the eyes of his granddad from his father side and great grandad from his mother side...the same man; Tywin Lannister.  
Would he had been happy about his son officially ‘firstborn’? This blond chubby creation with his eyes?

Myrcella told him about her 'love story'  
He tried not to think about Myrcella and Jaime in bed.  
Myrcella believed she hadn't been good enough, not Cersei enough...

"She needs therapy" he told his aunt, who had never looked so serious.  
"Tyrion my dear. I don't have to explain that your brother raped her. Do I? As much as I love Myrcella, I don't want to see Jaime in prison. Try to reason with her!"  
"It is really Jamie's child? How could he?" Uncle Kevan seemed aged by twenty years.  
"This child should have the Lannister name. It is your brother's child. Tywin would have wanted them married..."

She thought she loved him, she wanted him, she cried for him.  
She didn't want to talk to any other than Tyrion (how deep ingrained this 'all in the family' was)  
"Uncle Tyrion, I love Jaime, I would have been good for him. He loved me, I know. He was just scared because of the baby..."  
"Jaime and I, we love each other. I don't care what other say. It's not like it is illegal. I can marry my bro... My uncle."  
But not your father!  
"You are my uncle. Jaime was never like you, this is why I could fall in love with him"  
"I'm not an idiot. I know what Stockholm syndrome means! It wasn't like that. I was never in danger."  
"He needed me! He was desperate. He would have killed himself!"  
"He will come back to me! He knows I can be his Cersei. He has me and our son. He has a family!"  
"He will come back uncle Tyrion?He will come back to me?"  
Cry.

No corpse. No crime. No reason to search for him.  
Tyrion called the second sons.  
They would find him dead or alive.


	11. Paying the debts

 

 

  
She was stunning beautiful, motherhood becomes her.  
Her hair were short, chic, sophisticated she looked like a woman and not the girl she still was.  
She smiled infatuated to the bundle in her arms, as she looked at him, her smile froze to her lips, he could see her shoulder stiffened, a mask slipped and hide her features.  
-Father would have been so proud of you!-  
“How are you?” stupid question, but he was glad, he could have said much more stupid things.  
She arched a brow, “Good thanks”  
“The baby?”  
“He has a name. I couldn’t give him a father, but I did give him a name”  
“Care to share it with me?” wrong, stupid choice of words.  
“Jaime, his name is Jaime” had she punch him in the groin, it wouldn’t have hurt this much.  
“I don’t know if it is a good name” he tried to joke  
“Well you weren’t there and I couldn’t wait hoping you would come to see your son!” she was angry, she had every right to be.  
“You kidnapped me, raped me, impregnated me, made me believe you would feel something for me, leave me heavy pregnant, scared and alone after the deaths of the rest of my family.”  
“Myr…”  
“Don’t call me that! You left me after writing a fucking bunch of crap and you disappeared. You didn’t really gave a damn about me, didn’t you? The moment you realized it wasn’t Cersei’s cunt you were fucking,or better her asshole, you stopped to care. I hate you Jaime!” the last words were almost screamed. How much did she changed.  
How much did he changed her.  
The baby started to wail “Not you my cub.I love you! Mama loves her baby boy” she opened her blouse and took her breast out, rounder, heavier with larger and darker nipple.  
He looked at her, remembering what he did with her body without her approval, he knew now he shouldn’t have.  
He didn’t know any boundaries with Cersei and he did the same thing to Myrcella, he didn’t have any right to be near her, to speak to her, to beg for her forgiveness.  
Myrcella recepted his glance and chuckled. “It wasn’t a good idea to call him Jaime, but again, I didn’t think you would come back. I thought he would be the only Jaime in my life”  
“I’m sorry” he didn’t knew if it was a good idea, but he had to ask “Can I hold him?”  
“I would have hate you if you didn’t have asked”  
“You said you hate me already!”  
“I would hate you more” she sighed “Meet your son”  
“No black hair” he muttered - Only one head, two legs, blond hair, and father’s eyes- the little boy was a Lannister from head to toe, a beautiful baby.  
“No black hair, a typical Lannister boy” she was proud of her son.  
“He is kind of small” he was warm. A small pink thing. He was happy he didn't have his eyes...like his half siblings had. Like his mother.  
“You didn’t have to push it from your vagina, he isn’t small”  
“He is beautiful” it was true, he looked like a commercial baby, flawless “He seems to be calm”  
“As long as I nurse him, and he already loves uncle Tyrion. He start to dance when he hears his voice!” she smiled  
“I see the role for the favourite uncle is already taken” his smile was sad.  
She took the baby from his arms frowning.  
“The role for his father is still to have” there was a provocation in her voice. Her eyes straightforward, waiting.  
“Not a role I would be perfect at”  
“He doesn’t need perfection. He needs you”  
“Will you ever forgive me?”  
“I think I will need some decades of psychotherapy and maybe one day I will not want to kill you”  
“Can I visit him?”  
“You must.I told everybody the baby is yours. You are listened as his father in his birth certificate, his name is Tommen Jaime Lannister, we call him Tommen”  
He gulped, she smiled more brightly taking the baby from his arms “You are the scoundrel who seduced his mourning niece and knocked her up” she spoke with unveiled satisfaction.  
“You know Obara?” she added smiling  
“One of the Martell?” a daughter or a sister to Oberyn, maybe a niece…  
“She wants to kill you”  
“Must be a nice girl”  
“The best. Trystane and Aegon want to kill you”  
“Doesn’t surprise me that much”  
“Aunt Genna…”  
“She wants me dead?” this was surprising, but he did rape his niece, so maybe it was normal  
“No she wants to castrate you” she imitated the voice of his aunt “All the years arranging a nice girl after another for him to marry, and he had to impregnate his niece!”  
“Uncle Tyrion hopes and prays for you to be alive so he can kill you”  
“So much for love of a family” he turned red, did he really said this?, but seeing Myrcella incredulous face told him yes.  
“Lancel wanted to marry me, so I wouldn’t bore a bastard. I hope this will invigorate your believe in family love!”  
Good be good, Lancel...again!  
“You didn’t say yes to the shining knight?”  
“I don’t want anymore leftover from my mother. Once hurts enough”  
Another hit. Has she always be that good?  
The baby was sleeping, together they watched the ocean. How many times he had been there with Cersei?  
She rose from the bench “I’m going home, I don’t believe you want to stay at Casterly Rock, don’t you?”  
“I wouldn’t feel safe, I will stay at the hotel, thank you”  
She nodded, “The role for Myrcella’s lover is free too, for a time..." she said before taking the way home.  
He had to sit down again.  
He was the father of Cersei’s grandchild. The lover/seducer of her daugher.  
Had she know about the future she would have killed him in the womb.  
He wanted to cry.  
Cry wouldn’t help, he had loved only a woman, only his twin. He wished he could be a father for Myrcella but this wasn’t what the girl wanted, he could see it.  
He would be everything Myrcella would want him to be, her lover, her knight, the boy’s father...he did her wrong, he had a debt to pay. To her and to Cersei.  
The sorrow and pain he felt would never leave him, this would be his retribution.

 _He_ _was fifteen and they just had sex, sex with the own twin sister was supposed to be gross, but whatever said this hasn’t been Jaime Lannister, and his sister wasn’t surely the golden siren at his side._  
 _-_ There is no man, like me, only me _\- he thought, still dazed._  
 _“I put a spell on you” murmured said siren tracing pattern on his skin._  
 _It never ceased to amaze him how many facets his twin had, she could be silly and sulking and smiling and seducing to him and only to him._  
 _-She doesn’t have any friends, she can be like this only with me.-_  
 _Sometimes it’s made him sad that nobody knew how funny and sweet Cersei could be, but he didn’t want to share her. Let all the world believe she is a bitch, no one will take her away._  
 _“Yesterday you said you were a queen and today you are a witch?” she was childish sometimes_  
 _“I’m the queen of the witches of course” she pouted_  
 _“You will transform me in a pig?” he oinked biting her belly_  
 _She laughed trying to stop him and surrendering, he was ready again, but it had hurt her, and she had wanted to rest a bit._  
 _“You will not love any other woman beside me, we sealed the co_ ntract _with my blood and your seeds. You are mine forever Jaime Lannister!”_  
 _“I didn’t know I sealed a contract” he said, he could see that she was unsure between being angry and be disappointed._  
 _“If you knew this, would you have do this?” her meekly voice wasn’t Cersei’s at all, he couldn’t believe she was really asking him this._  
 _“I would have cared to “sealed” with more emphasis” she was reassured and apparently had enough rest, because they sealed the deal again and again._  
 _“I’m yours with body and soul. Only yours Cersei.Forever”_

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not really sure about this one. DArk and twisted and ...sick. I wanted to write a psycho Jaime...


End file.
